Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Peru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Remains to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Joe Smooth,
Severed Heads,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerri Chandler,
The American Breed,
The Mummies,
Marvin Gaye,
Gichy Dan,
Sam Rivers,
Q and Not U,
Arcadia,
Smog,
H. Thieme,
Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
Niagra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Velvet Underground,
The Angels of Light,
Skriet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
Ralphi Rosario,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
X-102,
The Real Kids,
Second Layer,
Rakim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Count Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thompson Twins,
OOIOO,
Monolake,
Roger Hodgson,
Piero Umiliani,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Vogues,
The Smiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Rapeman,
Silicon Teens,
John Lydon,
John Holt,
Mad Mike,
Stiv Bators,
The J.B.'s,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Flag,
Ice-T,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronan,
Don Cherry,
The Modern Lovers,
Faust,
New York Dolls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terry Callier,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.